Nabukko, page 15
Chapter 13
I arrived at the mess hall for the tail end of breakfast, but there was still more than enough food to fill my plate, the sweet and savory scents teasing my stomach as I heaped on vegetables, fruits, and freshly baked bread.
Once I could no longer safely add more food to my plate, I scanned the many rows of tables for a place to sit. I smiled as I spotted a few familiar faces bickering back and forth. I slipped between the tables and benches until I arrived at my target.
“All I’m saying is that we shouldn’t discount the idea of fully biological ships!” Martel waved his spoon at Lethia. “We already have a sort of ecosystem symbiosis on all Fleet ships—so why not expand on that?”
The tall woman flicked a wisp of her lavender purple bob out of her eyes. “And all I’m saying is that Bio’s are way more unpredictable than good ol’-fashioned reliable gears and bolts! Hell, I’d rather fly in a Gamma Series than some Bio Ship!”
Martel scoffed at her. “Please! You’ll die on that sword now, but we both know you wouldn’t trust an ancient bucket of bolts like that to carry you to the moons!”
Lethia’s eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah, Marty? You think I won’t follow through or somethin’? I’ll call you on that right now. Find me a Gamma and I’ll sail right off this rock and all the way back to Mars!”
Martel crossed his arms. “You’re too stubborn for your own good, woman. Won’t listen to a lick of reason or a milliliter of common sense.”
“Damn straight I won’t. I’ll swear to it on Deimos right now!”
Martel sighed in exasperation. I took that as my cue to interject.
“Good morning, you two. Such a cordial atmosphere in here,” I said, sliding my plate onto the table as I sat next to Lethia.
Lethia huffed, but a smile tugged at her features. “Marty’s always cordial. I don’t make the same claim myself, of course. Don’t want no lies spread around.”
Martel nodded at me. “Good morning, Eff. So glad to have some civilized company this morning.”
“Oh please. You’d die of boredom without my uncivilized company. No one to poke and prod your values.”
“No one to disagree with every breath I take? Sounds refreshing. Show me the sign-up sheet, Lethia. I’ll put my name in every slot.”
My eyebrows rose. Martel seemed a lot less calm than usual this morning. He lacked his normal poise and patience. What was bothering him?
Lethia glowered at Martel. “You’d care. Don’t act like you don’t. No one likes your pretentions. You always gotta be better than everyone else, huh?”
“It’s better than trying to be worse than everyone else, don’t you think?”
Lethia’s eyes shot daggers across the table.
I briefly considered finding a new table. I had thought this was just a friendly squabble between Martel and Lethia, but now I had the feeling there was more to it.
The tension was starting to mount, and I glanced around the spacious mess hall, searching for any inspiration to direct the conversation toward something at least resembling amicable.
The room was only a quarter full, most people having already gotten their breakfast, eaten, and gone on their way for the day. I spotted a small cluster of tan canvas-clad guards hunched over their plates. Two of them spoke quietly, one of which sported a bruise over his eye that rivaled the colors of the mountains surrounding Nabukko.
I blinked in surprise. The bruised guard was none other than Jarl. How had that shiner happened?
“What happened to Jarl?” I blurted out.
Martel glanced over his shoulder at the guard. Lethia just smirked.
“Was it a wild animal?” I guessed.
“If by animal you mean human, and if by wild, you mean done properly educated, then yes,” Lethia laughed out.
“What? Someone attacked him?” I was by no means put out by someone giving Jarl a good thrashing, but Gia had made it seem like Nabukko still functioned like a Fleet’s crew. Which meant in-fighting was strictly forbidden.
Lethia gave me a conniving smile. “No, just a single punch. Turns out, that’s all it took to knock the brute out!” She cackled, enjoying my look of confusion.
“But who?” I asked, suddenly worried Eoghan would do something stupid for me, like punch a fellow guard.
“I’m savoring your rapt attention, but I’ll not leave you hanging any longer,” Lethia teased. She leaned in closer to me, like she was about to divulge a grand secret.
“It was Keir! Of all the people!” Lethia chuckled again, leaning an elbow on the table.
“What!” My mind reeled. Obviously, this was unrelated to me. But the memory of my nightmare taunted me, put me slightly off-balance. Was it just a coincidence? I thought back to last night at dinner, when Leaf Man had caught Jarl glaring at me.
I shook my head. Leaf Man didn’t even like me. Period. He had been suspicious of me outside Merula’s office after all. But . . . he had also offered to take me back to Gia’s room, hadn’t he? I didn’t understand him, virtually knew nothing of him. Therefore, it had to be a coincidence and nothing more.
Nothing at all.
I encouraged my brain to think of a logical conclusion. “Did Jarl insult him, or something? Steal his bread?”
Lethia scrunched her nose. “Steal his bread? Really? As if Keir would even let him get close enough to do that! Outrageous.” She tapped a finger on her chin. “But come to think of it, I don’t really know why Keir knocked Jarl’s eye socket back to space. We were all leavin’ the mess hall after dinner, and all I know is Keir walked right up to Jarl and hooked him real good! Jarl fell like timber. Didn’t even have time for so much as a grunt before he was out cold.” Lethia’s eyes lit up at the memory.
“They didn’t argue, or anything?”
Lethia peered at me. “Why you so interested, hmm? Was it cuz Jarl showed you the better side of an arrow?” She gave me a wicked smirk. “Or, is it cuz of interest in the other party? Hmm? I thought you were into friendly sunshine, but maybe you prefer grumpy shadows instead, eh?”
I blinked at her. “I—are you joking? No, I’m—”
“Leth, stop gossiping. Nabukko functions better without your rumors to fuel it,” Martel interjected.
Lethia rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not gossipin’! Just searchin’ for information. That’s all!” Martel leveled a look at her, and she sighed. “Fine, fine. Never let me have any fun,” she grumbled.
I nodded gratefully at Martel as I shoved rice and mushrooms into my mouth.
“I’m planning on foraging just north of Nabukko this morning. Would you like to join me, Eff?” Martel asked.
I was technically on foraging duty with Martel this morning. And I didn’t exactly have any plans until later.
“I have scavenge inventory this afternoon. Will we be back by then?” I asked.
He nodded. “We’ll be back by lunch. We usually operate in morning and afternoon chunks to simplify the duty roster. And to make sure no one is being overworked.”
I thought of Eoghan’s long hours. “What about the night shift for the guards?”
Martel raised a brow. “Guards can’t have night shift two nights in a row, and the night shift is broken into two segments as well, changing over at midnight.”
“No one ever pulls an all-nighter?”
Martel shook his head. It seemed like Nahova really was taking out his anger on Eoghan. And I doubted Eoghan would say a peep about it to Merula.
“Merula tends to be strict about maintaining a balance between personal time and professional duties.” He paused, assessing me. “Especially since we are all by ourselves out here, for the time being. Doesn’t do to have your crew tired, stressed, and sleep deprived.”
“That’s . . . surprisingly insightful of her.”
Martel tilted his head. “I know you don’t care much for Merula, but she really is an excellent commanding officer. As long as I’ve known her, she’s always done whatever is necessary to keep her crew safe. Even before we crashed here, she was quite the proficient first officer.”
“I don’t doubt that.” I absent-mindedly tapped my fork against the table. “But I’m not part of her crew, and she and I both understand that.”
“Perhaps that will change with time,” Martel countered.
“Perhaps.”
“Ah, it’s more than swell if you never like the old bat. It’s not like it’s a requirement or anything. Besides, she’s too bossy,” Lethia said.
“You just don’t like that she tells you what to do—even though that’s her job. And that she tells you when you’re wrong,” Martel said.
“Bingo! I don’t like either of those things—from anyone. I tolerate it so I can fly and work on space-worthy beauties like the Nabukko, but one day I’m gonna strike out on my own, free from the Academy, free from any captain, and free to go wheresoever I choose that day and every other after it.”
I studied Lethia. I wanted to protest, to say that she shouldn’t throw away her potential for so-called freedom, that working hard for the Academy was a coveted dream she shouldn’t be so eager to ruin.
But I didn’t say any of that.
Part of me wanted to defend the Academy, defend my own chosen way of life. But, somehow, it didn’t feel quite like what I wanted anymore. Although the past three months had been hazardous, there was something immensely fulfilling about exploring an unknown world, discovering its natural wonders, and pondering about the tiny hints of human presence. I loved trying to put the pieces together, even when it was infuriating at the time.
I shook my head. But I didn’t have all the facts yet. I felt this way now, but what about when I somehow got my memories back? Or learned what really happened to me, to the Nabukko? Would I be so eager to go on an unsanctioned adventure after this? Or would the comfort of being part of a bigger Academy community with other people calling the shots be more alluring?
I pushed around the remaining crumbs on my plate with my fork. Right now, what I wanted or how I felt didn’t matter. It would never matter if we were all stuck here for the rest of our lives.
“—keep believing that, Leth,” Martel was saying.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“So, what plants are we harvesting, Martel?” I jumped in before Lethia and Martel could start arguing again.
“Really, Eff? I can’t believe you’d want to wander away from safety and actual buildings! Three months wasn’t enough for you?” Lethia intoned.
I shrugged. “I could use a breather, actually. I’ve been cooped up here for a few days now. I was used to being out there, surrounded by foreign plants, bizarre trees, and strange little animals.”
“Just walk outside. You can see all that from anywhere in the camp!”
I shook my head. “It’s not the same. Albeit easier here than on a spaceship, for sure.”
Martel nodded in approval. “My thoughts, exactly.”
“Not me,” Lethia said. “I only like it if it boops, beeps, or lights up.”
“You know, you might actually enjoy some fresh air and non-holographic vegetation if, oh I don’t know, you actually tried going outside for once?”
“I go outside every day, dummy. It’s a tragedy, but I do what I must for now.”
Lethia stood up abruptly. She reached across the table and pinched Martel’s nose, leaving him startled. “I’ve got to skedaddle now. Have fun sifting through bugs and thorns. Ta-ta!” Lethia said, waving as she walked off.
I glanced at Martel, who sat at the table, still as a rock.
“I’m not going to ask about that,” I said.
His eyes met mine. “I’d appreciate that, thanks.” His eyes followed Lethia out the door before he too stood. He straightened out his shirt and coat, and adjusted several of the buttons. He cleared his throat a moment later. “Well, shall we go sifting through bugs and thorns now?”
I nodded. “Yes, please.”
Golden sunshine filled the cloudless sky above. It sifted down through the black pines and the syrupy red leaves of wispy barkless trees that surrounded us.
I stepped over a stubby brown plant, already knowing it wasn’t edible, but stopped to inspect an orange blossom with fuzzy brown leaves growing beside it.
“I think this is Midday Meal, but they usually grow in larger patches,” I said. I ran my fingers over the leaves, feeling for the right texture and thickness. I flipped the leaf over to look at the veins on the back.
“Yep, this is Midday Meal. This little guy’s probably a founder for a new colony, but there should be an origin patch nearby. They grow in groups,” I said, standing up. “I have suspicions that they might be a collective organism, kind of like Earth’s aspen trees.”
Martel paused to look over my shoulder. “Midday Meal?” He chuckled. “We’ve cataloged this as Edulis aurantius. Although I suppose your name is a bit more to the point.”
“Edulis?” I said, unable to hold back a laugh. “Is that the genus you’re using for all edible plants on this rock?”
Martel’s mouth quirked. “I wanted to make it rather obvious for record-keeping.”
“It’s smart. You’ll probably have some of these species renamed after you once the Academy gets wind of your discoveries.”
“Hope I’m alive to see it happen. It would be the third planet I’ve got a name from.”
My mouth dropped open. “Skegs, Martel! The third?”
He grinned, obviously proud of his work. “Indeed. The first was for my Academy thesis. Gliesus zebsarkis. A very temperature tolerant moss species from Gliese 667 Cc.”
“Gliese? Wasn’t that where the Academy sent some of its first exoplanet bio probes?” I moved a pine branch out of my way as I searched the ground for more orange blossoms. “Or, I guess it was a Corporation back then, not officially the Academy yet. Still, how in Luna’s name did you manage you get your hands on a sample?”
“I think I see a patch of Edulis—-I mean Midday Meal—over there,” Martel said with a smirk, pointing to a swatch of ground a few meters away. “Also, I may or may not have been top of my class at the Academy. Which has its perks.”
I whistled. “I didn’t realize I was foraging with a legend.”
“Come now, you don’t strike me as the type to have just barely scraped through the Academy. What was your ranking?”
I scrunched my nose, trying to remember. “I—I’m not sure. But I think I was close to top ten. Maybe tenth place. But don’t quote me on that.” I smiled then, just as a memory floated up. “My parents were so proud. They took me on a trip to the Rockies to celebrate.”
“Making top ten, or even close to it, is no small feat. They have every right to be proud.”
I glanced at Martel. “I can only imagine how your parents felt with you being the literal pinnacle of the graduating class.”
“They were ecstatic, of course. But it was also expected. They spared no expense on private tutors, lab materials, and even establishing the right networks when I was growing up. I don’t deny some talent of my own, but they allowed me to develop it. Without their interest, and money, I doubt I would have gotten so far.”
I stooped to harvest the patch of Midday Meal, or Edulis aurantius, as Martel called it. “You eat the roots, too, right?”
He nodded, pulling out a medium-size bin from the cart behind us to store the plants in.
I dug carefully around the base of the brown stem with a trowel, making sure not to stab the bulbous roots below ground.
“Were your parents both botanists, too?” I asked as I worked.
“Father is, but mother’s a local politician. Yet she obviously liked the subject enough to marry a botanist. I think that interest helped her encourage my own pursuits. They actually cared about what I was doing—not just that I was getting good grades or going to be successful.”
I placed the first plant into the bin before moving onto the roots of the next one. Martel bent down on the opposite side of the patch.
“Leave about ten plants in the center. As far as I can tell, you’re right about this being a collective system. It can survive and repopulate if its center is left unharmed,” Martel said as he worked his own trowel into the ground.
“I knew I was right!” I let myself have a self-satisfying grin.
“How about you? Do you come from a family of botanists, Eff? You certainly have the knack for it. Don’t think I didn’t notice your interest in the greenhouse.”
I shook my head as I brushed off the dirt on the roots of my second plant. “No, not exactly. I think their subject is . . . broader than that. But I know music is their hobby, especially operas.”
“They sing?”
“No, thank the stars. They play. Brass and strings, I think? Probably piano, too.” I sighed in frustration. “You’d think I’d remember the instruments at least.”
Martel studied me. “You really can’t remember what field your parents studied, either?”
My eyes met his for a moment. Then I looked away, focusing again on the Edulis aurantius around me.
“I know plants are involved. But so are star charts, and—and geology? I’ve determined that it’s probably a subfield of planetary science. And . . . I think that’s my expertise, too.” I stuck the trowel into the ground a little rougher than necessary. “Honestly, I can recall facts about Gliese 677 Cc but not about my own studies at the Academy. . ."
“I’ll try and work with the Doc again, see about getting some of our equipment working. Maybe we could figure out why your memory’s so much worse than ours.”
I glanced up in surprise. “I—thank you. I would really like to know myself. And if it can be fixed.”
Martel shrugged. “If we can know what’s wrong, then it can be fixed. Provided we have the proper tools of course.”
I flattened my lips. “Which isn’t likely out here.”
“No, it’s not. But isn’t some truth better than none?”
“Yes. For me, anyway.”
“No promises. But I’ll see what I can do. Also, I’m still trying to find out more about that symbol you saw. Nothing’s come up yet, but I have a couple of other tricks up my sleeve.”
